


Blindsided

by Atsvie



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Talking During Sex, Wade Thinks About Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 03:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atsvie/pseuds/Atsvie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Peter is surprised by the things that Wade thinks about.</p>
<p>“Seriously. Being inside you like this, it’s just, like we really trust each other because have you ever really thought about what having sex is like? You’re letting me put part of myself inside of your body? And we never think that’s a big deal, but that’s a pretty big deal because sometimes when you put things in people’s bodies, they die. Like knives.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blindsided

Peter doesn’t really understand Wade. Sometimes, he does because Wade is just as predictable as he is entirely spontaneous and unpredictable. He knows how Wade will react to some things, how his weird habits kick in, and all of these minute details that have taken careful observation to catch onto.

But he doesn’t really _get_ how he thinks.

Peter is used to the way that Wade fucks—fast and rough, something desperate like he’s going to fall apart unless he grabs at Peter to pull him closer while he pushes into him. It’s wild and gratifying and Peter would be lying if he says he doesn’t love it. It’s more than just the way that it makes him arch his back until he feels like he’ll break, the way his voice isn’t his own when Wade pulls broken moans out of him. There’s just this feeling that Wade needs him, and that’s something easy to fall in love with and make a home in.

But then Wade stops, still buried deep inside him with blue irises now thin slivers around his pupils. Reality doesn’t quite crash back into his senses immediately, but it’s easier for Peter to note the dull ache in his back and the fabric of the sheets gripped in his fingers when Wade isn’t taking him apart from the inside out.

Peter uses the moments to open his eyes and furrows his brows because he hadn’t been aware that something was wrong, that Wade would need to stop. And it doesn’t look like that, because Wade is still leaning over him, one hand holding his thigh up from the back of his knee and the other next to his head.

There is this expression on his face that he couldn’t place; Peter can’t decode it but then again he hasn’t had as much time to study the way that Wade’s face looks when different emotions flit across it—it’s still a touchy area.

Just as he’s about to say something, he feels Wade rock his hips into him again and it makes him gasp more from surprise than anything. But Wade is moving again, albeit slow, lethargic thrusts like he has all the time in the world. It drives the younger wild partially because it isn’t _enough_ and partially because it’s mind numbing the way that he’s in so deep, the way that it’s like he’s thinking through each thrust.

“You know,” Wade says, voice still gravelly but steadier than it was when he was telling Peter he wanted to fuck him. He’s looking at him though, leaned over Peter’s body like they’re curling into each other and the look alone is piercing. “This is pretty crazy. Thinking about us doing this.”

“What? Oh god, no plotting during sex,” Peter says, wriggling like that will encourage Wade to continue. It just earns him a slow drag of his cock back out.

“Don’t get shallow on me, Spidey,” Wade sniffs, but he still has that expression like he’s freaking looking _through_ Peter—and despite that they’re naked and having sex, this is what makes Peter feel vulnerable all of the sudden. When Wade has his moments—moments that sometimes end in fights and god so much confusion because there are just some things Peter doesn’t _get—_ Peter doesn’t always know how to handle them.

Wade continues. “Seriously. Being inside you like this, it’s just, like we really trust each other because have you ever really thought about what having sex is like? You’re letting me put part of myself _inside_ of your body? And we never think that’s a big deal, but that’s a pretty big deal because sometimes when you put things in people’s bodies, they die. Like knives.”

Peter is listening though, as Wade just continues fucking into him enough to keep the pleasure bubbling in his groin and everything tight, but he’s trying because as much as Wade rambles during sex this means something else.

“And this feels great—yeah okay, _really_ fucking great thanks for the correction—but I was just thinking that this is one of those important things in life that I probably don’t deserve but here we are. No, shut up I don’t sound like Dean Winchester, there is no self loathing going on here at all, none,” Wade speaks quickly, now leaning his forehead against Peter’s collar.

And Peter actually does get what he means now, letting his hand idly trace patterns over his back, follow his spine and back up. Granted, he hadn’t really expected for Wade to have an epiphany in bed but he figures it might as well be a good time with this magnitude of intimacy and everything. With Wade inside him like he’s found his place in the world, limbs tangled and reluctant to part.

Because something awful could happen tomorrow, but when they’re here wrapped up in each other, it’s just Wade and Peter forgetting the rest of the world like nothing else matters.

“Yeah,” Peter says softly, kissing his temple before meeting a harder thrust by raising his hips a bit. He’s suddenly so aware of the weight over him, the way that Wade feels inside of him and how his breath feels against the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

“And you’re not going to just like up and leave and shit,” Wade laughs a little though it’s muffled. Peter almost thinks that’s his way of saying he needs him and brushes his thumb across his cheek slowly. “I don’t understand it at all because there’s so much you could have instead of me but you’re the one who gets all whiny about post coital cuddling.”

“You love my post coital cuddling,” Peter snorts. Wade lifts his head from his shoulder, a hint of a smile on his lips but he can’t help but be stilled by the intensity of blue.

“Sure. But I kinda like this too, a lot. Fucking sounds really crude even though it’s fun. Making love just sounds so cheesy and weird, no thanks. But having sex and knowing that goddamn, it actually means something. Who wouldn’t get all philosophical about it?”

Wade has a tendency to say too much, a lot of it superfluous and his thinking just a bit circuitous. But he says them; he says all the feelings that come to mind and tries his best to articulate them that has Peter melting a bit because that’s something he _can’t_ do. Peter can really only digest the information and think and _feel,_ it’s the articulation he stumbles over.

Peter doesn’t really know how to respond and tell him how yeah, that means a lot to him too because there’s just this feeling of contentment settling in deep to his bones. That even though they fight, and Wade is crazy and spontaneous and feels so intensely that sometimes Peter thinks he’ll drown in it, that Wade is important, he’s safe. So he does what he knows how to, cupping Wade’s face in his hands and tilting his own head a bit to just _look_ at him.

“I love you,” Peter says to him clearly, the words warm and low. Wade doesn’t have to ask for that verbal affirmation, that’s not something that Peter wants to make him have to do.

Wade laughs a little but he’s grinning and moving to kiss him. They still move like they’re trying to blend together, so that wherever Wade ends, Peter begins but the distinction doesn’t really need to be made because he can’t imagine being torn from him right now anyways.


End file.
